escape

Let's pretend that's all it takes. Let's make believe you can delete yourself from Facebook, turn off your phone, down two shots of cheap rum and a Lortab 10. Existence: gone. Disappear off the face of the earth. At least for a day or two. Let's pretend when the sun rises tomorrow I'll be lying on my back in a field somewhere. He's beside me. Which “he” doesn't really matter—I loved them all in their ways. It's a different world. One free of misunderstanding and confusion. There's no chaos. No disarray. We get along... just me and him. I don't want to be troubled with anyone else. Let's pretend there is such a thing as heaven. When I get there on my cloud of hydrocodone and Captain (or is it Admiral?) Nelson, that's when the rest will come. Eternal relaxation in a field of poppies, his hand clasped with mine. I could watch our knuckles for eternity. I could enjoy the sensation of his thumb sliding over mine forever. We'd lock eyes among the flowers; his blue blue eyes in high contrast to the red-orange of our field. I would wonder if he compared my brown ones to the soil beneath the grass beneath our backs. I wonder if there even is soil. Dirt doesn't seem like something that belongs in our perfect haven. I wonder how he came to be here. I wonder if I'm just imagining him. But then the pressure of his thumb crosses mine again. The heat surges through me and his smile slides on his lips. He's real and tangible and eternal. I don't have to speak a word; I understand. He needed to escape as much as I did. Our time is fleeting. In a day or two more, we'll log in again. We'll make up with our families, our “friends”. We'll feel better, simply because that's what's expected of us. We'll return to reality and no one will really realize we ever left it.